


Curse of Chance

by GwendolynGrace



Series: Terrible Deeds Suite [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Blame Each Other Challenge, M/M, Series, Sexual Violence, Written before Eternal Summer
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2003-05-03
Updated: 2003-05-03
Packaged: 2018-05-17 02:00:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,847
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5849662
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GwendolynGrace/pseuds/GwendolynGrace
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A suite of six short fics for the "Blame Each Other" challenge: Lucius/Sirius non-con. Number one is obvious; number two is subtle; number three is twisted; number four is tragic; number five is a light A/U; number six is a loss of innocence.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Curse of Chance

**Author's Note:**

> These were all written for the "Blame Someone Else" challenge run by Minerva McTabby in her LiveJournal. I posed myself an extra challenge to put my "canonical" versions of the characters into these (IMO) "non-canoncial" situations. The exception is #5, which is an A/U. However, these fics were all originally written and published during the "Eternal Summer" long before we knew the real names of canonical characters, so my non-compliant / jossed versions are preserved here.

'Do I know you?' the young man asked. He was dressed in faded jeans and a leather motorcycle jacket.

'I don't believe so,' Lucius responded, growing more intrigued. Although the youngster wore Muggle clothing, he was clearly a wizard. How else could he have found this place?

Lucius had wandered into the Pegasus Pub on the corner of Vane Street and Rochester Row just to get out of the rain for a few minutes. He was waiting for a number of his master's servants and they were late. The pub had a good view of the square where they were to congregate, but it was cosy and comfortable, and he could use a pint while he passed the time. The few warlocks who were inside seemed concentrated on the match over the wireless, and paid his black robes and aristocratic bearing no mind.

And then the young man walked in. His hair was soaked with rain, and when he shook it out of his eyes, he resembled a bloody great dog. But the look suited him, somehow. He was known to the barkeep, though, who drew off a pint of his best without even asking, and had no sooner placed it on the bar than then young man sat in front of it and took a pull.

'Thanks, Killian,' he said. His voice sounded like crunching gravel.

'You off to Zodiac tonight?' Killian the barkeep asked amiably.

The customer scowled. 'Not likely,' he half-muttered, half-spat.

'Arguing again?' the bartender surmised. 'Or... somewhere else to go?' He asked this in a low voice, not exactly conspiratorially, but almost teasing.

The young man waved a hand impatiently and drank again. Then his gaze drifted along the bar and around its corner, and fell on Lucius.

Lucius paused a moment before looking away. On the one hand, he didn't intend to stay long, and he didn't really want anyone to remember him, so he had made no attempt to stand out. A random wizard in for a pint, then off. On the other, the wizard intrigued him. No doubt he was a mudblood, dressed as he was like a reject from some American biker gang. Yet try as he might, Lucius could not deny a certain magnetism about the man. Something dark lurked in the watchful eyes, the tight expression. He seemed tense and troubled, but by what, Lucius could not say.

With a twitch of a single eyebrow, Lucius stared into his drink and sipped at it.

'Do I know you?' the young man asked suddenly.

'I don't believe so,' Lucius said haughtily, more disdainfully than he intended. He was just passing the time, he reminded himself, waiting for someone out of the rain.

'I'm sure I've seen you somewhere...' the wizard pressed. 'Work at the Ministry?'

'No,' Lucius answered with finality. He spent nearly three days a week at the Ministry, it sometimes felt, what with committees and advisory positions, and the Council meetings, but it hardly helped his anonymity to say so.

'Oh.' He seemed to get the point and fell silent.

Lucius glanced round the pub again, and saw something that made him want to slap his forehead. Two wizards sat in a booth along the far wall, on the other side of the bar from the biker-wizard. They were smiling at one another, and Lucius watched one of them put his hand on the other man's knee. Ah, he thought. One of those places.

Lucius had some fond memories of times he and his school friends, Ari Baddock and Tony Lestrange, had all gone out together with ladies of their acquaintance. By and large, he preferred the company of women much more than men, but on occasion, after the wine had been flowing for a while, and tongues and robes were not the only things loosened, he remembered highly pleasurable experiences where he could not quite have told you who did what to whom and how. He did distinctly remember one incident when he deliberately sought to bring in another boy, though, and that was Ludo Bagman. And how lucrative that venture had been, he recalled. Bagman was so aghast at what he thought he had done of his own volition, he came to Lucius, begging him to keep it secret and to make sure no one else who had been there said anything. Since then, of course, the daft Quidditch Beater had belonged to Lucius, and between his influence and Rookwood's... well, Bagman was a valuable source of information for his master. It also earned Lucius more than a little praise from the Dark Lord, which was all to the good.

But for the most part, he rarely found himself attracted to men. Yet this one, he thought, coming back to the present, this one seemed altogether too nice a package to ignore. And chatting him up, no less. Lucius took a closer look.

He was certainly handsome... well-built and somewhat muscular underneath the weather-beaten jacket. He seemed about the same age as the newest crop of recruits, ones recommended by Tony's cousin Justin Lestrange. Were it not for the additional heft and the slightly mischievous gleam in this one's eye, Lucius could almost imagine him kin to the dour Severus Snape, a particular find of Justin's. Perhaps they were at Hogwarts together?

'You might know a friend of mine,' Lucius heard himself saying lightly. 'Justin Lestrange? You're about his age.'

The young man gave him a suspicious look. 'I know Justin,' he said guardedly, though a little bit of distrust crept into his voice. 'He was a year or so ahead of me at school. He was in Slytherin, wasn't he?'

'Yes,' Lucius smiled in a friendly way. 'You?'

'Gryffindor,' he said with a shrug. There was no disguising the pride there, despite the feigned nonchalance. Lucius's opinion of the boy dropped about eight notches.

But then it hit him. If this young man was a Gryffindor, a year behind Justin, then he had been in the same year as Snape. And also as Potter. His master seemed very keen to get information on the young Potters. The boy's value went up quite a bit.

Lucius peered out through the rain. Still no sign of the team he was to meet. Good. A new plan formed in his mind.

'I couldn't help overhearing, before,' he said even more kindly, as he slid off his barstool and dragged his pint closer to the corner. 'Do you have anywhere to be tonight?'

'No,' the other said after a moment. 'That is...I was supposed to...sod it.' He finished his beer in a very long gulp.

'Would you like another?' Lucius came closer, pouring on the charm.

It was the young man's turn to look over Lucius's shoulder and out into the street. Evidently, he made up his mind and nodded. 'Sure. Why not?'

Lucius smiled benevolently. 'Not here, though. I know a little place, near Bryanston. It's much nicer,' he lowered his voice, glad that the barkeep was busy with someone across the way.

A flash of doubt crossed the youngster's face, but the darkness replaced it instantly. 'All right, then.' He pushed his stool away and stood like one who does not look back after making up his mind. Lucius suppressed a chuckle at the ease with which Gryffindors could be manipulated. This boy's attitude was the opposite of true bravery. He agreed to go because he was afraid he'd be accused of cowardice if he did not. The irony of it amused Lucius no end.

They stepped out into the easing rain and turned the corner. 'Can you Apparate?' Lucius asked slickly.

'Of course,' the young man nodded.

'Good. Go to Bryanston and Oxford, near the Seymour Mews,' he instructed.

'I know it,' the wizard said, but Lucius had already Disapparated with a soft 'pop.'

He Apparated in the spot where he told the other to meet him, and drew his wand. A split-second later the wizard joined him, and he was ready.

'Imperio,' he intoned. 'Tell me your name.'

'Jacob Sirius Black,' Black told him flatly. Halfblood, then, Lucius concluded. He deserved what he was about to get.

'How well do you know James Potter?'

There was a pause, during which Lucius felt the familiar tug of a wizard fighting against the curse. 'I was his best man,' Black answered finally, after Lucius sent an extra burst of energy into the spell.

'Good.' He waved the wand lazily toward the little park off the street, aiming Sirius's steps toward the bushes for a little cover. Once again, he tried to fight, but Lucius powered the curse with more will and overcame the other wizard's efforts.

The rainclouds were clearing off now, and Lucius worked quickly. He ordered the boy to strip from the waist, as he wasn't about to undress him from the odious Muggle clothing. Black did as ordered, his breath forming vapour clouds in the darkness.

'On your knees,' Lucius hissed at him, lifting his robes and kneeling behind him, 'and tell me what Potter is doing for Dumbledore's Order of the Phoenix.'

He kicked Black's knees wider apart to aim himself better, and pushed him forward to all fours. Black, no doubt due to his barbaric proclivities, seemed used to the position. Lucius barely paused to lubricate himself before thrusting sharply - no sense leaving himself raw for a mudblood. Black sucked his teeth in mid-sentence, obedient to Lucius's mental order to be silent and not attract attention. The leather of Black's jacket crinkled as Lucius thrust against him, muscles hard and tense. He directed Black through the Imperius curse to tell him more about Dumbledore and his plans. It was a crude interrogation method, but nonetheless effective: Black muttered the whole time, spilling out secrets like the raindrops that still dripped from his shaggy hair.

By the time Lucius came, Black was panting despite himself. He was still fighting the curse the whole time, and losing, but nevertheless, part of him responded to the assault. Lucius pushed him face first into the mud. He wasn't supposed to enjoy it. He thought of using a nearby stick or something else to make the experience more pain than pleasure, but it grew late, and the effort of keeping Black under the curse tired him. Grabbing one of Black's shoulders, he forced him to turn over. With his mud-streaked face and eyes burning with hatred, Black looked even more dog-like than before. Dog. Mudblood. It suited him. Lucius sneered cruelly.

'Obliviate,' he tapped Black ever so gently on the forehead, replacing the memory with that of a random mugging and rape. 'Stupefy,' he added for good measure before releasing the Imperius curse.

He put himself back together fastidiously and cast a cleansing charm before Apparating back to Vane Street. If the others were annoyed with him for making them wait, well, hadn't they been tardy first? At least his lateness brought him new information for his master. They were practically guaranteed success. It was going to be a good night.

~*~Fin~*~


End file.
